Winter blast!

It is -43 celcius here today, take into account the windchill. That's cold. If you're not in the wind, it's tolerable; otherwise, you gonna die. Or wish you were dead, anyway. Peanut is a champion sleeper. This is a thing that continues to amaze. She sleeps 5-7 hours a night, uninterrupted. She is also thiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiis close to smiling at me. When she does, I will be forever putty in her fingers. She does sorta half-smile now, but not the same giant grins that I see in other babies. Soon... I have three weeks of work left before I go on Pat Leave, which will be awesome. I am looking forward to the massive amounts of energy I experience on Saturdays being a daily occurrence. As long as she keeps sleeping, of course. I will hope to get the dining room and basements crafted into something nice, and maybe even do some landscaping in a gentle fashion around the place. And that is all there is to say about that. Three weeks left. PS. That will be the first time since... 1999... I think? that I have not been full-time employed, and the first time since 1996 that I don't have to leave the house during the day

Winter!

Lots of fun this week. I was in Southern City three days ago talking about my job. I am good at that. So good that I think the folks in Southern City are going to adopt some of my ways of doing things. It's very encouraging. Also, it's very timely because I drove over a parking barricade and wrecked one wheel on Priscilla The Prius and that was very humbling, and I needed the encouragement. The Project Manager, Peanut, and I went to the mountains, which was also lover-ly. Peanut thinks the mountains look like the inside of my coat, because that's pretty much all she saw. We did take her out to a ver' fancy restaurant though, and she was very quiet and pretty much the belle of the ball. I have learned that, if you cover yourself and be discrete, you can breastfeed anywhere. It's not that people can't tell, so you get away with it, it's that people realize what is happening, but aren't confronted with the biological reality, which does make lots of people uncomfortable. The Project Manager says that anytime a substance is coming out of your body, be it milk or whatever, people will be uncomfortable. I think she is wise. We then drove back to Prairie Metropolis, and hit a bejeezly big snowstorm. Worst. Drive. Ever. But we lived. Yesterday was the busiest we can be, there was church, 6 hours of rehearsal, then church again, then cleaning up at the church, then we went home and ate soup and drank a bottle of wine. I have a headache. 4 weeks to parental leave.

Work Anger

Dear sweet heavenly Jebus. We got a new printer at work, and it is very snazzy and works very well. The interface is new, and some people don't like that, and so they asked our IT guys to reinstall new drivers that would make the interface look like the old interface. So the IT guys did that... and now there's an old interface for the new printer that makes it look like the old printer. And everyone is happy. Except... ... NO ONE CAN FUCKING PRINT ANYTHING. And the people who don't like the new printer are taking this as evidence that "See, I told you didn't work right" "You assholes", I thunder mutely, "It doesn't work right because you fucking broke it." Also, Peanut came back from her vacation today. She's not noticeably bigger, or anything, but she is noticeably more alert. She's awesome. Tonight is our first evening at home just Daddy and Her... and some board game players.

My basement!

Is almost a basement again! It is almost cleaned out, and almost cleaned out enough to actually use to sit in, relax in, be my office in, etc. I need to figure out how to paint the ceiling and so forth, and do the final fixes on the electrical while the thing is still exposed, then there's paint and so forth to do. Also, secret compartments. And windows. This is very exciting, and was a product of a few days off from my amazing job over Christmas. Peanut is doing well, but, frankly... kinda boring. I really wish she'd hurry up and start, you know, DOING SOMETHING. I suppose I will have to be patient.

Christmas!

Yay! It's Christmas! I am almost done at work for the year(!) and then back to the grindstone in January. What I have learned already: 1) The work of parenting is not exhausting; it is unrelenting. 2) I don't really care about renovating right now That said, I will be working on the basement for a few days while the Project Manager is away, and I look forward to that, maybe I can even get the cold air return finished. There's a weird draft in the kitchen that must be dealt with as well. To work! Happy Xmas!

Things what I have learned!

The first week of missed sleep was brutal. And I didn't deal with it very well... BUT... I now function perfectly on 5 hours of sleep a night! I'm a machine! We have a little bedtime routine: Peanut eats, then falls asleep on me, then the Project Manager falls asleep on me, then the cats fall asleep on me. Then I have to figure out how to extricate myself from under them all and get Peanut into the bassinet, then I check the time and bet how long she'll sleep. Then I go to sleep and wake up 87 times to check her. Around about 6 am Peanut fusses and wakes up, I hand her to the Project Manager, and then we're good to start our day!

Labour

Well here we are! Currently at Isambard, there is a baby, a mommy, 3 cats, and me. And everyone is asleep except me. This is a good thing. Peanut was born on December 5th, juuuuust after midnight after a 20 hour labour, laughing gas, an epidural and some forceps work. This was, except for the forceps, exactly according to plan. The labour started at about 4 am, at home, with gently accelerating contractions. Over the next eight hours they became stronger until we reached Five minute intervals between One minute contractions for One hour, also known as 5-1-1. At that point we decided to go to the hospital, though neither the doula nor Father In Law Chauffeur were there. (He had offered to drive us until we figured out he was asking for permission, thus his role in this) As soon as we determined to go, the relevant parties arrived. Though we were at 5-1-1, the standard deviation was pretty high, so we delayed long enough for a cup of tea. Tea finished, and we were off to the Nice Lady Hospital. At NLH, the volunteers quickly dispatched us to the wrong area, and between stopping for contractions we were bounced around and landed in the right place. At this point, the Project Manager was unable to lie down or sit down, so we were made further uncomfortable by that fact that all the initial spaces for a pregnant lady are a) small, and b) designed to lie down. BUT...as soon as we got into our room (where "everything will happen") we had lots of wonderful space, enough for our doula and us. The PM is kicking butt at this point, and the doctor quickly determines that she is 3 cm dilated, and things are just tickety-boo. Then they leave us alone... for a long time... which was very nice! We contracted, and walked, and the PM got in the shower for about 2 hours and the doula and I massaged her and held her up and helped her breath, and the contractions kept on coming, about 5 minutes apart, and HARD. The PM would fortify herself with a little laughing gas from time to time. She would later claim that it did nothing, but listening to her trying to talk after taking it was pretty funny (speaking as someone who has done Whippets, and knows what of he speaks) The doctor came back in, and re-examined the PM and discovered she was... 3 centimetres dilated. So they said, gleefully, "we'll break your water, that will help; but the contractions will get more severe". So they did that. And boy did the contractions kick up... and never stopped. Contraction after contraction without a break or respite. And the PM began to flag a little... this is now about... 8 pm? But we had a plan, and that plan was (if it could not be tolerated) we would mitigate the pain with an epidural. The doula and I tried twice to get her through contractions with encouragement in the shower, but the third time she asked for it she said, without a waver in her voice, "It. Is. Epidural.Time" so we stopped encouraging her and got busy with the epidural. The anaesthetologist was a massive dude, and a good thing, because it took all four of us, (him, the nurse, the doula, and me) to hold the Project Manager still while he injected her. He was one of our heroes. At this point we're about 6 cm dilated, and the epidural is perfect. The PM can feel everything, but nothing hurts, and away we go again. The contractions increase in severity and excitement over the next 2 hours, taking us to about 10 pm. Now the pushing begins. You may note that we missed the transition phase, where Peanut's head moves from the cervix into the birth canal. We did miss this! Thanks epidural! The pushing was wild. My little tiny PM is pushing like a rock star, which involves pulling her knees towards her shoulders, and trying to turn herself inside out. She pushes and pushes and pushes and pushes. As she does so, we can see the tip-top of the head and every time she pushes it comes within 5 millimetres of the opening and then retreats. And this gets discouraging. At about... 11 pm, the doctor comes in and says, "huh, let me check something" and she sticks four fingers where four fingers shouldn't fit, especially as there's a baby's head there, and she determines that Peanut is facing the wrong way, and the mystery of the unproductive pushing is resolved. So the doctor turns Peanut around. If I never have to see the PM in that much pain again, I will be a happy man. But now we have movement! The PM explains as how she is unable to get this baby out without help, and the doctors start working on the forceps procedure. This means... more drugs! Wonderful drugs! This means that the PM will be insensate below the waist, so her pushing will be prompted, not instinctive. She is racing the doctors. Every push brings Peanut closer in, and the doctors are still not ready to help. There are now 9 people in the room, and it is a little crowded. Finally all is ready, and they get the forceps in, and they begin to steer. Doctor makes it clear that the forceps are not to steer, they are to steer while the PM pushes. It's now juuuust before midnight. There's pushing, and talking, and screaming, and bustling, and pulling, and incredibly bright lights, and it's all a blur, really. At about 12:04, they pull Peanut out, and she is, as far as I can tell, dead. Purple, floppy and silent. And that lasts for about 10 seconds. At some point they steer me in to cut the cord, which I do, and they ask me to tell the PM the sex of peanut, which I do... and that's about when I lose it (in a manly way, of course). They put Peanut on the PM's chest, and I get sat down, and try breathing for a while. At this point they have to do some intimate sewing on the PM, so they put Peanut on MY chest, and then I weep. I cried more than Peanut did. Also, Peanut pooped on me. Copiously. But that was ok. There! Now you know how that turned out. Oh yah, and Peanut is a girl.